take a step down in society, welcome underground to the real life of a hustler

Friday, August 28, 2009

JUST ANOTHER DAY


Today was a special day, just as all the others. Tomorrow I'm going blonde again since it's "good for business". Bye bye boring brunette.



I have had a constant head ache for two days now, just hope I'll sleep it away, if I can fall asleep so to speak. I'll put it pics of my new hair tomorrow.
Isn't Jenna so pretty?
Coco soso xoxo

Friday, August 21, 2009

Thursday, August 20, 2009

ÍNSOMNIA-Á LA-TOO-LARGE-CAFFEINE-INTAKE


Ive spent a few days here in mamma's bed. She's not home, she's with her manfriend. I'm alone. Just me and the TV. I have http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BD_XCECbAEU.

I have to get courage to make a very important call tomorrow. I. Have. To. I am hesistant, not struck by cowardice.

AND I WHO THOUGHT IF WAS FALL BY NOW


but the fucking sun is shining, brighter and hotter than ever. The heat makes me fat.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

EGO FLICKA


I hate myself for my shallowness. But, no. I'm not shallow. I guess I'm just not so secure, hence I always try to improve, try to be loved and self-assured. LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE ME. My profession isn't really helping me get rid of this problem. Well well, at least I don't have colon cancer or a manhood the size of a fucking peanut shell. Thank god that we girls don't have to deal with that.

THIS DAMNED HAIR


As I told you, my hair is no longer divinely blonde, but dark-shitty-boring-"naturally"-dark blonde. So now I spend my days trying to get this "toning" out of my usually bleached hair so I can return to my former beauty. Apparently it will fade quicklier if you put in loads of conditioner in the hair, put a plastic bag on the head and sleep with it. So... Here is Emme, obviously happier than ever in mankind fucking history, beautifully made-up, staring at the TV screen which shows her favorite show, ever. I mean, ever. Miss Marple. Emme + Miss Marple = Forevereverever. Never been happier than this.

FUCK YOU

Let me just keep it simple and straight: my boyfriend of three years (on and off) apparently is MARRIED. I cannot really explain how I feel. Ive spent three years on his conditions "clean this, dont smoke, dont drink, dont tattoo yourself, let me do whatever I want with you, love me unconditionally, make me coffee, make me dinner, massage me, scrub my back".

I am so totally gonna do everything I dreamed about but never was able to since I has RESPECT FOR MY "BOYFRIEND". He can find some other teenaged blonde with low self esteem and eating disorders that he can do whatever he wants to with. I just say: FUCK YOU and good luck with your boring mediocre life with your old hag who is older than my mom.
Tomorrow I'll get a tattoo, start dieting and planning to recolour my hair blonde since he made me make it darker. Fuckwitt.

http://open.spotify.com/track/5RAAcrbeMHXdsDvoJcmtNh Or not. Im not your little puppy any longer.



Sunday, August 16, 2009

MY UNCONDITIONAL THAT WASNT ANSWERED MADE ME MAKE UP MY MIND

Sometimes you have to make your own responsible choices in life. I have made one now. I think.
I will see you somewhere in Rome if you can find me.

http://open.spotify.com/track/5iSV8gNvzGsmbQ3NZrWO7N

As usually I just run away from my troubles...

Thursday, August 13, 2009

MY GRAND-MUMMY


Funeral time today, my grandmother is dead. But 89 years isn't something to complain about, I even think it's too much.

My mom, sister and I went to see her a last time two days ago, my first dead person. She laid in her box with her eyes stitched together and a smirking smile, the white shirt covering her stiff, gaunt body. I couldn't cry since there just was the shell of what once used to be granny. The shell of a human. All I kept on thinking was where the heck her soul was, I mean, it can't just die? Where is her soul?

I touched her mummified hands eventhough I don't think I should have. My grand-mummie was in that box, but my grandmother is someplace very very different than on this troubled earth.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

DAYS LIKE THESE

I just want to die.


1. The French who is supposed to be sweet and caring and loving and understanding behaves like a total asshole. "Clean this, clean that, look at this Emme! What the hell is this supposed to be?! Didn't I tell you thabla bla bla blabbla.. Quack.."
2. He talks about this gorgeous girl who is so skinny and so hot. Fuck. You.
3. I have dirty hair and a pimple on my chin which makes me feel like I'd be just one big pimple myself.
4. I weigh myself. Nuff said.

And here I sit with a piece of fucking chocolate in my mouth. Stupid, stupid girl. I hate the world today, including myself.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

PLEASE, ROBERT


Do you wanna adopt me? Please Bobby, be my sugar daddy...

PURPLE BACKGROUND - GREEN EYES - MOMMY'S RUG


I can't sleep any longer. Must be some kind of latent anxiety, but who cares as long as it's just latent haha. The French slept between 19:08 and 03:something in the morning. I didn't at all.
Today I've been drinking four cups of coffee, a redbull light and a slice of water melon. I was so speedy I just danced through the whole apartment listening to some really crappy but catchy house music.
After an hour I suddenly found it suitable to take a little walk to the local grocery store which probably is the most expensive one in this damn country. I bought five packs of AA batteries, some prunes and two more redbulls. But as the caffeine was leaving my body I was so shaky when it finally was my turn at the cashier's. I could hardly think straight, dropped my card all over the place and pressed the wrong buttons while uttering small "oops" "whoopsidaisies" and "dammits!".
The cashier chewed slowly on her hubba-bubba and stared at the speeded blonde with red eyes who desperately tried to catch the credit card which seemed to have become alive.
Anyways, finally I caught the bastard and stepped out of the store on my high heels. Now I'm tired.
Tomorrow I have a shoot for some Japanese Gentlemen's club. I don't understand why I never get any better jobs. Well, well, money is money right?

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